F for Freedom
by KeepCalmFanFicExists
Summary: Tom Riddle has been having many changes in his life in order to secure absolute freedom. This might just be the biggest one yet.


_Written for round 4 of the Quidditch League Competition for the Wanderers. The theme for Chaser 3 was to begin and end the story with the same abstract noun. The chosen word is "freedom" and the prompts used were frog (word), confused (word) and the poem "Afternoon on a hill" by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1852-1950)._

_It is set during Tom Riddle's summer break between fourth and fifth year, which means he knows about the magical part about his family, but hasn't yet visited his Ucle Morfin and thus has no idea if his father is still alive. He had concluded though that he is/was not magical._

Freedom. This had been the most important word in Tom Riddle's vocabulary since he could remember himself. Freedom had been what he craved more than anything else.

From early on he had realized how different he was. The other orphans, when not working or running errands, spent their time making noise and playing silly games. He spent his time studying and dissecting frogs. They would tease him relentlessly about that until he showed them what he was capable of. But he still hadn't freed himself from them and their filth.

Later, when he started attending Hogwarts, he thought he could at last leave all that in the past and start there a new life that suited his brilliant self much better. The sight of the majestic castle had gotten his hopes up, he had known he could find a place just as amazing as he was. He had been wrong again. His fellow Slytherins had been far from thrilled to have a Mudblood join their exclusive club. They had spotted his second-hand robes that were too short for him and the old, worn books from day one and had considered sharing their dormitory with him a personal offence. In his early days at school he had woken up many times confused, not knowing where he or his clothes were, because the Pureblooded brats had planned another idiotic prank on the first Mudblood of Slytherin House in six centuries.

And his usual charm hadn't been enough to stop them from excluding him from their company. So he used pure force.

The explosion in the dungeon had caused his dear classmates third degree burns, many broken bones and a sudden fondness for the new arrival. Tom himself had enjoyed the whole incident immensely and the cries for help and choked promises of obedience had been the best part. He intended to hear that again and soon.

His pride and importance in the Slytherin hierarchy had increased dramatically since the day he had made that black mamba Abraxas Malfoy had smuggled in the dorms do his bidding and forget about his rightful owner. Everyone had assumed that he was the long lost descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself, as his family had the only recorded Parselmouths in Britain. And some had even dared whisper about the Heir of Slytherin and the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. Tom himself had done extensive research on the subject and he was optimistic that the new school year would bring many chilling surprises to the Hogwarts residents. It would be the beginning of his empire, the beginning of the terror.

With the title of the Slytherin Heir, his new ''friends'' by his side and a much better view of the Wizarding World, very clinically and quietly he had marked what must be his. Everything!

He possessed great intellect, impressive magic powers and acting skills that could beat any actor's. He _could_ have everything. And yet, deep down, he knew he couldn't put his plan to work for now. The stink of that prison was still on him, not even the connection to a founder of Horgwarts could cover it, and there was only one way to get rid of it.

Tom sat up straight in the tiny room with the moldy walls. He had spent the whole night deep in thought with his pen, inkpot and small notebook as usual. Only this time the complicated diagrams, calculations and theories had given their place to a skein of lines all originating from the letters of the words:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Pages full of letters, words, ink-stains and more lines followed until it all ended to the four words Tom had written separately, his elegant, slanted handwriting a bit shaky with triumph:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

He felt the urge to laugh at how something that simple had taken so much effort to create and, most importantly, could mean so much.

He wouldn't be "Mr. Riddle" anymore, none of his classmates would call him "Tom" ever again. It would be "my Lord" from now on for them and Lord Voldemort for the rest. And when the time would come, perhaps every person on earth, Muggles and Wizards alike, would be so afraid and respectful of him, they wouldn't dare call him by name. He would be the Dark Lord, their master and emperor.

This name he has fashioned for himself could take away all the attention from that filthy Muggle name that had been his father's only legacy. Cutting ties with him, even on a symbolic level meant so much to him. He had always hated his father for not being there for him and his mother. When he had confirmed his suspicions about being a wizard, he had, just for a moment, been willing to forgive him partly, if he had been a wizard too. But now he knew he had been a Muggle and that made the need for a new name even more substantial.

It was quite fortunate, even Tom had to admit, what a nice anagram his given name could produce. He had been solid on the title, "lord" just had to be there somewhere, but the rest turned out rather nicely as well. It would pass the exact message of his goal: escaping death. He would be the only man, the only wizard, to be alive forever, to have absolute freedom.

_A/N: Please let me know what you think. _

_A black mamba (Dendroaspis polylepis) is a snake endemic to sub-Saharan Africa and highly poisonous, among the top 5 venomous snakes in the world (though not threatened with extintion) . Its bites are practically 100% fatal without treatement and to the locals of South Africa it is known as "the kiss of death", in other words exactly the kind of thing a Malfoy would find cool to use to impress his classmates. Shame things didn't turn out that good for him._

_Historical note: It is true, during this era orphans living in orphanages would work instead of going to school._


End file.
